You can never be to drunk
by Nuky
Summary: What's Sands notive for getting El drunk. A oneshot that swings both ways. The good and the bad.
1. You can never be to drunk

**This one-shot started a long time ago as a simple slash. Just because I and friend wanted to make something together. Just a simple slash to make it throw the night.**

But some of my thoughts and ideas kicked in, as always. And I had to make it deeper, make the characters more then they where suppose to be. I'm not sure if people will like it. I don't think I really care, after so long I just wanted to put it online so I didn't have to think about it. 

**Enjoy, if you can. I won't force you. **

**Disclaim: El Mariachi and SJ Sands belong to Rober Rodriquez. Not to Nuky. I'm just a very doll girl that somehow seems to enjoy writing about both guys above mentioned. **

**.-.-. You can never be to drunk.-.-.**

The night was still young, the sun had just set and already it was getting colder outside. Sands hadn't spoken since, well forever. El entered the living room, he was already getting used to the darkness that used to linger in the room. Sands, of course, never switched on any lights and besides that most of the lights were broken anyway.

Sands was sitting on the couch, a bottle of liquor in one hand and a cigarette in the other. El sighed, Sands 'looked' up. El noticed he was already halfway drunk, if not more.

"Don't you think you've had enough to drink?" He asked. Sands responded by taking another sip from the bottle.

"You can never be to drunk, El. That's the beauty of it!" He smirked and hold up a bottle for El.

He frowned and did not take it. "I don't drink."

"Yeah, tell that to you're heartbreaking Mariachi friend that want to save the earth of all crap I putt it throw." Sands sneered, offend of El. "You're not kidding me, amigo."

"I'm not you're friend Gringo. I just work with you temporarily until the Cartel get off my back." El clearly wasn't in the mood for Sands mind games.

But the ex agent didn't give up that easily. Childish he waved with the bottle in front of El's eyes. "C'mon you want it, I know it."

El thought about it, what did he have to lose? At the moment, nothing, right? He grabbed the bottle and noticed Sands' surprise, which amused him. So Sands hadn't thought it would be that easy. He took a sip, it had been long ago since he'd last drank alcohol, but he couldn't ignore the fact that alcohol was what he needed at the moment… He handed the bottle back. Sands grinned and took another sip.

El sat down next to the ex-agent. Before he knew it, the bottle was back in his hands and he was drinking again. He couldn't help it, he didn't care anymore… The bottle was passed between the two of them, neither of them said a word. The alcohol started to work and he started to relax and feel more comfortable every minute. Sands was the one to break the silence.

"Ever kissed a boy?" He asked. El was confused for a moment, but than answered:

"No!"

"Wanna try?" He grinned seductively.

"Enough alcohol for you!" El stated.

"No, just not enough for you… yet." Sands replied, handing him the bottle again. El doubted for a moment if it was save to continue drinking, but than decided that if he was going to get drunk, he better get really cracked! Sands grabbed the bottle again and took another sip, after that he turned to El, giving the bottle again.

"Why would you care who I've kissed anyway?" El asked.

"It's not about who you have kissed, but who you want to kiss really…" Sands was still grinning. For some reason El was wondering what it would feel like… kissing the man in front of him. It was a weird thought he would've never have dared to think about something like that if it hadn't been for the alcohol… "Can I have the bottle back? Or are you actually going to do something interesting?"

El handed the bottle, Sands sighed and took a sip before leaning towards El.

"I know you want it…" He grinned.

"What are you doing Sands?" He asked.

"I don't know, does it matter? I'm screwed anyway, I don't care about the _rules. _I don't care about what you should or shouldn't do, it's all about what you still can do, right?" He asked. El didn't answer. It must be difficult for Sands, especially now he basically had nothing left to life for.

"C'mon what do you have to lose." He whispered a few inched from El's face, so close they almost touched each others nose. The breath from the other man felt hot against the skin of his face and smelled to tequila, smoke and a hint of lime.

Repulsed he gave the man a toss and took the bottle. "You're insane."

"Clearly you missed that hint before." Sands smirked, and crawled back on his ass, his movements made clear in what drunken state he was.

"You seem proud off it." El stated.

He shrug. "You either can deny it, or embrace it. I took the easiest way, No doctors, no medication, just me myself and I."

"And is that why you didn't want to go to a hospital, and refused the painkillers I offered you the time I took you're bullets out?" El continued.

"What are you playing my fucking shrink?" Sands snapped and snatched the bottle back. He took two big gulps and hissed. "Some good fucking tequila."

"Just curiosity, gringo, don't get you're hopes up." El said briefly, but deep down he really was anxious to know more about Sands his 'medical' condition.

Sands played with the bottle handing it over and over from right to left. "If you must know, yeah that pretty much was the idea. I don't like doctors and I _really _hate them now." He tapped on his glasses. "And medication can get me loco dreams, or I got the sudden urge to shoot, kill, kiss or fuck anyone near me. Depends on the mood."

"How sweet." El snored, a bit disgusted.

He was curious what Sands meant with loco dreams, but decided not to ask already. Sands wouldn't answer, maybe after some more alcohol perhaps.

Sands grinned and handed him the bottle again.

"I don't think I should drink anymore." El said.

"Scared of what you might do in a drunken state?" Sands asked, setting the bottle to his lips again. El didn't answer, he looked at the ex-agent and wondered what Sands was thinking right now. If it hadn't been for his common sense he would've given in to the alcohol and who knew what would happen next…

"Screw women." Sands suddenly spat and held up the bottle. "All of them, screw the bitches!" He 'looked' at El, waiting for some agreement. When he didn't receive the answer he wanted he muttered. "And screw you, fucking wuss." His head dangerously buckled backward, almost hitting the cabin behind him. "You'll be pissing you're tingling pansies before you would say anything bad about the woman."

"Who are you revering to?" El said with a dangerous tone.

Sands gave him his halfway grin. "You know who I mean, that chick you nearly died for. At leashed I'm calling my bitch by name, Anjedrez." He growled. "Nice face, nice ass, nice-" He made half curved gestures above his chest. "Piece of art, thought a good piece of tool. But no-" he hiccupped. "To be ore not to be used. Smart fucking chica."

El moved a bit unconformable. He never fully understood what cost Sands' blindness. He knew how, that was easy to guess. He screamed half of the night about it. But the exact details. "So _she_-" Referring to a woman, ore _the _woman that set him up. "- Betrayed you?"

"I guess you how call it now these days." He answered bitter. "I should have knew, she was much to easy. Not like it's hard for me to get some attention, I mean I have my charming personality-"

El snored after that statement.

"- But somehow they always flee after a month ore so. Something to do with there feelings, or that I cheat every now and then. But not her. That bitch could dig it, she pulled throw and looky looky where 'relationships' got me." He put the bottle down. "Screw women."

"Maybe you should've gone for more than just outer beauty…" El said.

"Won't be making that mistake again, will I?" Sands replied irritante.

They both went silent after Sands shattered El's statement. El watched Sands with narrowed eyes. He sat quiet, to quiet. What was he up to now?

To prevent anything from happening he yawned and watched the clock, it was past two. "Let's call it a night."

Suddenly Sands looked shocked.

"Wait." He said, he'd grabbed hold of El's arm.

"What?" El asked. Sands' tried to say something, but couldn't find the right words. That wasn't something that happened to Sands often, actually El had never noticed him having trouble with words before.

"O, screw it!" Sands muttered, before pulling El closer with one hand and with the other he found El's face, letting his fingertips travel over El's skin. When he found El's lips he moved in closer. El was stunned, he couldn't do anything to stop Sands from pushing their lips together.

It took Sands a lot of will-power to hold back, he didn't want to show El how much he wanted this, how much he needed it. El pulled back, pushing him away.

"What are you doing?" He asked, Sands not sure whether he was angry or just confused. Or just in shock.

"What do you think?" Sands asked sarcastic.

"I meant, _why_?" El replied. Rubbing his lips after been crushed by Sands'

Sands was panting and bended a bit forward, so you could see the gaps lingering under the glasses. "Would you love a monster man?" He spat. "Would you want a freak? No, of course you won't. And so does the rest of the world. So what am I going to do? Wait until some eyeless chick waltz into my life?! Don't think so, I won't live long enough for that to happen. And I don't want to die while that bitch… She… I won't let her have that pleasure." He sighted and trembled from rage.

"You're not even very drunk are you?" El noticed.

"Bit, might overdid it." He shrugged. "Nothing you should worry about."

"You've been planning this, weren't you?" El continued. "All night."

"Shut up."

"You pretended to be drunk, helped me to get tipsy, just do what exactly?" El went on with the interrogation.

"Stop playing psychiatric on me El, I _mean _it!" Sands warned with a low tone.

"What are you trying to do?" El asked, "Trying to see if anyone actually still likes you?!"

"I don't think anyone ever did!" Sands replied angry. El sighed and sat back down again. Knowing this was going to be a long night. It was silent for a while, non of them knew what was the right thing to say, until Sands asked: "Why did you pull back?" El didn't answer. "Is it because of my face, right? Because of what I am!"

El was silent for a moment. "It's… it's because of what you're not. Carolina."

"You really loved her, didn't you?" El nodded. "That's then very peachy for you."

"No, it's not. It's a burden. Ever day, ever night. It's a feeling you never knew you had until you miss it. It hurts and it won't get less, they tell you it will, in time. But there wrong. It doesn't wear off, it doesn't fade. It's like a sickness, it's gone a moment and gets back on you're weaker moments. It can't be fixt. It cannot heal, the wounds won't heal."

"At least the chick is being missed…" Sands mumbled, "I won't be missed. And I don't have anybody to miss…"

"Be clad for that." El replied.

"Why?" Sands asked.

"That only causes pain…"

"At leased that makes you feel like you're alive." Sands added. He stumbled towards the bed of the cheap motel room and parked his ass on the edge. "Pain can be good you know. It's a reflect, survival mechanise."

El sighted and also sat back on the bed, the on across Sands. "Pain can never be the answer. If that's what makes you feel alive, you're better off dead."

"Then I guess I'm already _dead_, but stubborn enough to keep on walking."

"Meaning?"

"Two times a drill in my head, doesn't do good for you're mind, El." Sands said cocky and made it to a grin. "Doesn't do good at all. Believe me I know what it is to miss the most important thing in life." He lay down on the bed and placed his hands behind his face. "I know now that some things don't heal, at leashed not fast enough." Carefully he took the glasses and placed them on the cabin next to his bed. Some strings of hair fell for his face and he quickly turned around, away from El. He crawled up and soon his breathing become steady.

But El knew better then to believe Sands was asleep. In his sleep he was all tensed, sweating, mumbling and tossing.

El also couldn't catch the sleep. He was rethinking the night, and he still felt a bit sick of all the liquor. He felt offended by Sands, did that man really thought he could get what he wanted out of him, all because of a fare amount of Tequila? And what exactly did he wanted? He whipped over his lips, feeling disgusted. He'd been kissed by a man, a dirty gringo.

He stood up from the bed and walked into the bathroom, stumbling and almost tripping. He switched on the light and started at his reflection. In front of him stood a bitterer man, his eyes shadows of the joy he'd been living.

He washed his face and rubbed it dry with a old towel. He sighted relieved, then kissed the little cross that he always wore around his neck. So faith would protect him, metaphorically speaking. Then he walked back into the room. Sands had clearly fall asleep, he was twitching and turning, sometimes whispering.

El watched as the night passed for the early morning. Sands' movements got more intense, his voice harsher and sweat run down his forehead. His mouth opened and let out a silent scream.

'Enough torment for one night.' El stood up and shook the man awake, not to gently.

It took some time and sudden Sands jolted up and fought to get some air.

"We have to go." El said short. Sands sighted deep and hold his head with both hands, slowly he nodded.

They never spook about Sands' nightmares. El asked a few times but all he got was a snap or a sarcastic comment.

Sands took his glasses from the cabin and started to collect his clothes, by feeling. El only had his guitar case and a couple of different shirts. And of course some personal items but nothing more, he could always buy things if he finally could stay low, he figured.

Sands was a whole other case. He had clothes, boots, all kind of hair products and several guns, all different types.

'He doesn't think he'll ever stay low.' El thought. 'This is his life now. Running and fighting always afraid someone is stabbing you in the back.' Luckily he had a few good friends, they would help him settle.

He was busy packing his last few things and stood up. "You're ready to go?" Sands simply nodded.

They had a stolen car standing outside of the motel, El throw the bags and his guitar case on the backseat and sat down on the drivers seat. Sands sat down next to him, pale and still holding his head.

"God, I feel like crap." He growled.

"Then you shouldn't have drink so much, you're a bad drunk." El said not feeling any pity for the man. He turned the keys and in a few moments they where back on the road. He drove fast, he had no idea how close the Cartels might be or what traps they set for him. How he hated the drug lords, they made his country so corrupted, made rich and cocky gringo's take the beauty of it.

'People like Sands.' He thought angry. He only needed the man temporarily he was his back up until he was safe.

He stared sideward to the man that seemed to pale more by the second. He frowned. Was it one of his dramatic acts or was there really something wrong with him.

"Sands?"

"My head hurts _so_ bad-" He moaned and rubbed over his forehead, trying to light the pain. He sunk against the car door and took shallow gasps of air.

"Sands?" He asked again, cursed under his breath and pulled the car over. He grabbed the mans jacket and pulled him up, the body was limp and he must have passed out.

"Sands if this is one of you're tricks I'll kick you out of the car!" El said threatening. But he didn't receive a reaction and cursed. What was wrong with him, this couldn't just be the alcohol could it?

In a flash he stared at the dark sunglasses. He ripped them off and hissed. The two giant gaps where terribly infected, thick red and swollen they must hurt like hell. The scars had been bleeding and now El noticed the blood on Sands jacked, from whipping it away.

"Stupid cocky gringo." El muttered. "Look what you did to yourself." The irony of that line made El curs. He pushed Sands seat down and lay him back. He grabbed a bag and started to seek throw it, but all he could find where some bandages. 'That's not going to be enough.' He shove the bag back and pulsed Sands, it was a bit so fast to ease El.

"Maldito! Arrogant gringo!" He hissed and started the car again. Why had he been so stubborn and didn't ask for help. 'Because he's stupid! _Stupid_ and insane!'

"I heard my nickname?" Sands said soft and rubbed his head. "What happened to my glasses?"

"I took them off you idiot, don't you know infections like that can kill you?" El snapped very angry.

"I _do_, told you I wouldn't live long." Sands snored.

"Not in that condition." El continued. "Why didn't you ask for help?"

"Why do people kill, why do people hurt, why do people ask to much? Because it's in there nature."

El growled and hit the gas harder. They needed to get some medications and some good clean bandages, quick.

At the nearest gas station he stopped and run inside, hoping no one would see the non eyed man in his car. Without waiting for his change he run back to the car, yanked all the stuff in the backseat and drove away.

A few miles he drove into the dessert and stopped the car. Sands hadn't spoken since and he wasn't sure if he was still conscious. He stepped out and walked to Sands' door. He opened it and grabbed the bag, taking a jar of salve.

"You're awake?" He shook the man's shoulder and got a very soft sight as reaction. "I'm going to putt some ointment on you're infections and it will hurt."

Sands frowned and shook his head. "_Don't."_

"I'm afraid you don't leave me a choices." He grabbed Sands chin and turned it his way. There was a struggle, Sands tried to pull lose and made some threats. El wasn't impressed and hold his head still. With his index finger he smear the cold salvages on Sands' scarred skin. A joint went throw the body and Sands made some wild moves with his arms, trying to hit El.

"Hold still, idiot." El said after ducking for a fist. "I'm trying to help you!"

"Don't what that kind of help, _motherfucker_!" Sands winched as El took a harder grip around his chin. "That hurts, let me go!"

"No, we still have on to go." El said, treachery and took another dab of salvages. "Now hold still, or it will get in your eye-… socket."

That realisation made Sands drop his fist and lay perfectly still. El nodded thankfully and smeared the cold stuff around his other socket. Sands winched, bit his lip almost in half but didn't make a sound.

"That's all done, sit up." El ordered.

"I'm not your dog." Sands snarled and pushed himself up with much effort. El took the bandages and tied it carefully around Sands' sockets. "That will do for today."

He wanted to step back, but Sands stopped him.

"What is it?" He asked irritated. Sands pushed himself up in the seat and laid his arms in El's neck, pulling him closer. El was wanting to stop him, but couldn't find a way to do so without having to hurt Sands. Mentally of physically, neither were a good idea at the moment. Sands was in a bad condition, had been for a long time, but just a few moments ago El had thought it was over. That Sands had finally given up the fight, but Sands probably would never give up a fight, it wasn't like him.

Sands kissed him again, but this time was different. This time the both of them were sober, well, at least El was. Sands was never thinking completely straight, especially not now with the pain he was in. El wasn't sure why he did what he did, but he leaned into the kiss, giving Sands just a bit more. He felt Sands grin against his lips and pulled away again. Stupid arrogant cocky snappy psychopathic ex-CIA agent! He turned around without saying anything and walked back to the drivers seat.

"You are getting better at it already…" Sands stated, leaning back against the seat, hands behind his head.

"Shut up." El replied. Sands grinned, it was one of the first times he'd heard El curse out loud, normally El would just mutter curses under his breath. Perhaps Sands did have a bad influence on him?

Many, many hours later they settled into a new, frankly bashed motel room. Each lay on a bed, El took the left on and he'd dumb Sands on the right. He was tired and sick. He hadn't got much sleep last night, cost by the man laying across. Somehow there wasn't much sleep if you where around Sands. Neighed ease or serenity. He had to keep up, stand tall or he would waltz over you and take control.

"A kiss is never 'just'. It's out of love, compassion or even lust, but never 'just'. It's more likely to be out of revenge basically."

El rubbed his eyes and was for a moment not sure of he had dreamed the words or Sands truly spoke them out load. "What… you've been saying?"

Sands kept starring at the ceiling. "You heard me."

El was awake again and angry. "I did, but what the hell is it suppose to mean?!"

"You want to pretend you're a shrink, you do the trick." Sands answered blankly and turned away and curled up.

First he thought to let Sands be and wanted to get back at the state he was in before the agent had to rub the nonsense in his face. But he couldn't pas that border. So he started to think. _A kiss is never 'just'. It's out of love, compassion or even lust, but never 'just. It's more likely to be out of revenge basically._

He had to agree with the first thing. A kiss could never be plain or shallow. It was something between two persons, given to another. You gave that person a part of yourself and it always meant something. Else there wouldn't be a touch, contact.

But he highly doubt it was out of love. Sands didn't bother the fact he couldn't keep a relationship going for more than a month. And who could blame the poor, poor girls. Living with Sands nearly drove him insanely and there wasn't even a relation involved, or friendship or any other basis.

'Compassion?' No, when he still had his eyes it made him shiver to look in the dark cold places of hollowness. There was something starring back at you, but nothing to call a person. No warmth, care or pity. Just a monster that let you know you where tiny, weak and fragile. That same monster could get into your thought, into your mind and it would eat you if you gave in. 'That will be a no for compassion.'

'Lust?' He rather didn't think about it, because it made him sick. It could be it, some man find it hard to be… without… he himself found it hard to coop without a wife, in more reasons he could count. Still, Sands was about control. And was able to keep himself in control.

'But revenge?' He'd done things to the man, but getting back on him by a kiss? There where a lot and more easier ways to get back on him, without having the change to get your face kicked in or make a complete fool out of yourself.

_A kiss is never 'just'. It's out of love, compassion or even lust, but never 'just. It's more likely to be out of revenge basically_

The way the man acted around him, that night he started to get in a drunken state had some desperation in it. He wanted something from him, like he wanted something back. But what?

Suddenly it all clicked.

"It's her, isn't it?"

Sands didn't bother to look up. "Hmm…?" El watched as the agent tried to avoid a conversation by acting he was half asleep. His tens bearing gave him away, after he'd spook the word _her _his muscles where tens.

The voice in his head that made him long for sleep had changes and it urged him to sit up. "Her, that woman who has betrayed you. It's her what keeps nagging and arching in the back of your mind. Like a thorn, tiny but there. Hurting just for being there."

"Sounds like your a poet, preacher-man." Sands said with annoyance. But El could see how his jaw gritted.

"Preachers never lie, Sands. And the way you talk makes my thought right, I think. It's her, Anjedrez-" When he spook her name Sands seemed to shrink in a bit. "-You hate her, she turned that powerful agent into a fugitive. She turned you into man that has to hid his face. She turned you into a-"

Sands spun around as been bitten by a snake and jumped forward. Before El even had the time to recover from the sudden action of the agent he got pinned into the wall right behind him. One slim but strong hand had clutched tight around his neck and the other hand was a few inches from his face. It turned into a fist and trembled from rage.

"Dare to name it, El. Fucking say it. Fuck, sing it like you mean it! You're the best Mariachi in the world so make it a nice song. C'mon play a few tunes and sappy-tune your way throw it! Sing 'bout the man that could cry crimson, 'bout the man who turned black on the day of the dead. Or make it just simple! Call this beastie by his name."

The grip around his throat tightened and made his breathing difficult. He got slide down a bit, until they where face to face. Gunfighter versus gunfighter.

He unclenched his fist and yanked his glasses off so El was forced to look into the death gaps.

"You wanna say it, so say it. I'm a freak… a monster, mutilated. C'mon call the thing by his name! And please laugh, make pretty pictures because a freak show like this you only see once in your life. O, and before I forget and return to my cage, please don't forget to laugh hard and stare and point… And watch as they fucking drill two pieces of my sanity out! Smile and stare as I beg _please _to let it be enough. I beg for a gun, for a knife, would even end it myself. Just to _please _make it stop! So smile pretty _please_ with sugar like she could and don't forget to feed the freak any once in a while. Because let's not forget, it's just a thing but _so _damn funny to use. To kick it when it's laying on the street ready to die, to toss it up and kiss it. So it knows what he's going to miss _if _it'll make it out alive."

He would have crashed if he hadn't turned his head away, El knew. He could feel it, even when he was busy getting his own feelings of disgust back under his skin. That forceful grip around his neck felt more as a way of support. To keep him standing. He was still trembling, but no longer out of rage. It cold down and died, got stabbed by something way stronger, regret. The _'what if'_, as El knew to well himself.

All the sudden Sands let go and stood on his own. A bit awkward he stepped back to his bed and sat down. With both his palms he massages his temples and seemed to be so small and hopeless. As if he was looking for words, something hard and venomous to spit back. And to find his voice, without letting it flee into a cry.

"M going to sleep." He whispered and didn't dare to look into El's direction. He lay down on the bed and turned away from the Mariachi as every night. Then he curled up, clutched the blankets around his shoulders and tried to keep his breathing in silent.

Still stunned, shocked and a bit disgusted El sat frozen on his bed. He blinked and started to rub his neck. It didn't hurt all that bad, but he couldn't stop. He knew he had to do something, say something. At leash make a attempt to… to do what? The man who lay across him (and did his best to act like he was asleep) was evil. It had always been so simple. He was good, his enemy was bad. But in this story appeared a shade of grey.

Before his enemy had always been something uncatchable, far away without a real face. Just the 'Cartel', or a group bandito's or someone like El Presidente. Before, everything had been easy. Hate is a very loyal companion. It never leaves, never tells you to rethink. Just to shoot, because they _owned_ it. It's hard for grief or regret to come between you and your companion. But eventually you have to face yourself again.

_Face the monster in the mirror, face the every-day demon. _

And since Marquez had died it was hard to look up to the man in the mirror. The loathing and hate where partly disappeared so it was finally time for grief and regret. The men he murdered appeared in his dreams, the battles he'd fought. Guild had never tasted so bitter before, as a bad tequila on a rainy day.

So who was he compared to the non-eyed Gringo. He'd killed to get rich. And he had killed for revenge, wasn't that just as bad? He watched as the shoulders of the other man stared to flinch and his right hand grasp the blanket. So he'd truly fallen asleep…

As the minutes slowly sank into hours, Sands' motions got more intense. Tossing and turning, whimpering and hissing. Sometimes a growl or a grunt and shaking his head.

A few times El wanted to get up and wake him up. But he didn't and just watched. Somehow he didn't want to touch the man. It sounded strange but he had the feeling it would turn him evil. Dark. If Sands could hear his thoughts right now and wasn't battling with his nightmares, he would have laugh and sneer about his believes. As he always did when El's conscious pleaded and he stopped in front of a church.

'Four months. Two weeks turned into four months.' He thought a bit distressed. First it seemed so simple. Fix him up a bit until he was capable of holding a gun, then drive throw the borders of Cartel and survive the fire line. Stay low for a whiled, then kick the Gringo out and drive safely into _Guitartown_.

'To bad my conscious had to come between me and my freedom.' He thought depressed and watched as the numbers of the alarm clock turned into 04:31. 'I need to get some sleep.' He let out a deep breath and lay down, his arms supporting his head. He stared at the sealing, where deep lines and cracks run throw each other by lack of maintenance. The breathing of his roommate seemed to get a bit slower. Good, that meant the nightmares weren't all that real and horrible anymore. It mostly wore off after two or three hours of tossing and pleading.

04:38, El's eyelids got heavy and the cracks seemed so high up and far away. He smiled, finally a few hours of good sleep. Finally his body could ease and he could set his mind straight. His breathing got deeper and slower and it wouldn't take long until he-

"NO!" Screamed his roomy unexpected and he his upper body shot up. "NO!FUCK NO!"

El growled, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. 'Goodbye beauty sleep.' He got up using his elbows and stumbled to the bed across. In the time he spend not to fall over boots, clothes and a guitar case Sands found time to grab his gun and hid his face in his wrist.

"NO!NO, not again!" He murmured and shook his head softly in his wrist. Although he got a gun in his hand, he didn't seemed that dangerous. More stressed and lost. El said no word, but for his own safety and Sands' he yanked the gun out of his hand.

That made Sands winch back as a wounded animal. His back pressed hard against the wall and he painted, still keeping his wrist in front of his face.

"It's me. I prevented you from killing yourself." He said calm and to cold. To _cold_? Could he be to cold for Sands?

"How… fancy of you to leave that to someone else El, real classy." Sands said back after finding his voice.

El ignored his comeback. "Where did you dream about?"

"Do you need to ask?" He lowered his wrist and let El see into the hollow sockets.

'Dark, it's always dark in his head.' That horrible thought run throw El's mind, the words made his skin crawl. With the dim light and Sands pale skin he looked just like the huge dolls and skeletons from the _Day of The Dead_. 'Sometimes the dead are closer then you wished the where.'

"But shock-shock, I didn't dream about that.-" Sands confessed after putting his glasses back on. "-I dreamed about her. About the few little tricks she made me do before I pulled the trigger." He tried to laugh but failed, then grinned with his jaws half clutched. "I guess this is the sickness talking, swell." He cleared his throat and seem to take the silence for a change to find out more about El's mood bearing.

"I dreamed about her kissing me. The goodbye kiss." He added wickedly. "I was so stupid, so fucking stupid. I could have end it from the start. But I didn't. And your right though, that thorn is stinging and piercing deeper in me. 'Cause I let her have the last little part of me. Because somewhere very deep down I wanted her to kiss me. The goodbye kiss. Figured better let it be her lips then nothing at all. Didn't expect to get any further, thought I was near the ending. That's where that thorn is goin' to. My ending. And all I can fucking thing about is to burn away that last goodbye. To crush it. To rewrite my ending."

Sands chuckled and looked up. "Damn you must find me one sick sorry ass. But fuck you, El."

"I don't think your anything like that, Sands." El said soft, understanding the mans motives. Not liking it, but getting it. And that was a breakthrough if you lived around Sands unpredictable and sometimes shocking behaviour.

"O shove it in your tight-straight and almighty ass, Mariachi." Sands snapped. "You have no idea. No clue. Your clueless. So clueless. Your so easy to manipulate you know, add some alcohol and you lose it. And you know why, because your doubting. That's our big difference, that's where our paths split. How much we might think we are alike, were so different. You don't know what you want, what you want to remember and caress forever. Me, I know exactly what I want, what I want to burry and do over again." He straightened his back and held his head up, licking his lips.

"So that's what all you want, to redo your ending?" El asked.

"That's what I said didn't I?" Sands answered.

El nodded slowly. "Even if that means you will be dead when the cleaning ladies come in here tomorrow morning?"

Sands seemed a bit shocked and putt off by his words, but not as much as he had liked. Sands lowered his head and massaged his temples. For a very long time he was quiet and a shimmer of fear run along with some shivers throw his hands. "Even if it meant that, El Mariachi. Because that is what's matters to me. The ending. My ending." He bit his lip hard and folded his hands. "Cause I'm done. I have nothing left to live for. If that's what you need to change my ending, so be it."

"Then I guess some alcohol won't hurt."

**This where I was suppose to write a descent ending for the one-shot. This is the point where I couldn't decide between right and wrong. Because I had two ideas, straightly the opposite of each other. **

**But why should I make a choice? I wrote both down and leave the ending up to you. **

**X Nuky **


	2. Good ending

The next morning Loretta and Isabel unlocked the door of room 148 to start there morning routine. Isabel started to discuss with her colleague about there underpayment and quickly added how hard it was to feed all her six children. Loretta wasn't very in the mood for all the whining and complaints from the much older lady and started to do where she got paid for. She didn't bothered the low payment as much as the older lady. She was glad enough she didn't have to do something illegal for a decent income. Not that you could call all the rooms she had to clean up decent. What some people had for crazy and sometimes kinky ideas on there way. You had the one nightstands, those rooms where a mess. But mostly just items tossed on the floor, or clothing leftovers. Yes, the one nightstands where the easiest to clean. Make up the bed and you where practically done.

"O young child you have no idea how lucky you are…" Isabel sighted in deep regret. "I can't even remember how good life was before I gave birth to the first-" Lorena cut the other woman off by putting on her Ipod.

_There's always something left to tell  
Tell me is it good?  
__I see you_

She stumbled throw the room, eyes fixing on the trashed coming along with her. Walking throw a pile of empty bottles she reached the window and shove away the curtains. Bright yellow sunlight shone into the room and showed her the big mess she had to clean up.

_Close your eyes and meet me in the sunshine  
Come on through_

Not very enthusiastic she started to throw all the empty bottles in a trashcan while she cursed Isabel in silent for silently sneaking out of the room, probable getting herself a cup of coffee to start the day with. That nasty old hag always did that if she noticed the room was quit a mess. She walked into the bathroom and noticed the water in the sink was still running. Quickly she pulled out the plug out to prevent the water to run over the edge and earning her another clean-up. Wondered she watched as the water flushed throw the sink.

_I guess you chose a different road  
I am not aware_

On the bottom of the sink lay a little silver cross. It was scratched and old, very old. Carefully Lorena looked over her shoulders to see if Isabel wasn't around, she wouldn't approve her having the cross. She would probable want it herself. But there was no sight of Isabel, so quickly she let the cross slide around her neck and under her shirt. The tiny silver object felt cold against her skin, like it didn't belong. A shiver run over her body and she stepped towards the window, into the bright sunlight. That blinded her for a moment.

_I hold a highway in my head  
Ruling of a king  
Driving away the things I've said  
And I've said everything_

A large man had the same problem, trying to drive his car. The sun stung in his eyes, like little needles. Or thorns. It was a large man, wearing only black clothes. He seemed somehow a bit mysterious, as if he didn't just wore the dark, but got surrounded by it. Sunken into the dark, while the sun tried to burn him. To stop the thorns from stinging he watched over his shoulder to the body. Still having to much alcohol in his system, sometimes tossing. But his breathing was calm. The thorns didn't pierce deeper into him, they had stopped near the ending. Did he understand he wasn't finished yet, thought the man in the dark. Because in the end he couldn't do it. With that decision he created a new path and left everything from before. He said goodbye to his old life, to his faith. To make hopefully make peace in mind with his new on.

_I see you  
Do you see me too?  
Close your eyes and meet me in the sunshine  
Come on through_

**I made this 'good ending' because I wanted to keep peace in mind myself, by not killing Sands. I think this is good and bad. Good, because I let Sands live, bad because El couldn't finish the last thing before he could go back living his own life in peace. I'm not sure what ending I like better, they both got something. One is more drastic, the other seems to take down El. **

**Well anyway, I would love to hear what ending you liked best.**

**X Nuky**


	3. Bad ending

.-.-.

The next morning Loretta and Isabel unlocked the door of room 148 to start there morning routine. Isabel started to discuss with her colleague about there underpayment and quickly added how hard it was to feed all her six children. Loretta wasn't very in the mood for all the whining and complaints from the much older lady and started to do where she got paid for. She didn't bothered the low payment as much as the older lady. She was glad enough she didn't have to do something illegal for a decent income. Not that you could call all the rooms she had to clean up decent. What some people had for crazy and sometimes kinky ideas on there way. You had the one nightstands, those rooms where a mess. But mostly just items tossed on the floor, or clothing leftovers. Yes, the one nightstands where the easiest to clean. Make up the bed and you where practically done.

"O young child you have no idea how lucky you are…" Isabel sighted in deep regret. "I can't even remember how good life was before I gave birth to the first-" Lorena cut the other woman off by putting on her Ipod.

_Here I stand, helpless and left for dead,  
Close your eyes, so many days go by,  
Easy to find what's wrong, harder to find what's right,_

She stumbled throw the room, eyes fixing on the trashed coming along with her. Walking throw a pile of empty bottles she reached the window and shove away the curtains. Bright yellow sunlight shone into the room and showed her the big mess she had to clean up.

_Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight,  
Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight,_

Not very enthusiastic she started to throw all the empty bottles in a trashcan while she cursed Isabel in silent for silently sneaking out of the room, probable getting herself a cup of coffee to start the day with. That nasty old hag always did that if she noticed the room was quit a mess.

_I won't last long, in this world so wrong,_

Never before rushed Isabel back into the room before finishing her cup of coffee. But, never before she had heard someone scream so hysteric. And never would she forget the sight of the body in the bathroom, the emptiness of the face would stay with her forever, as her colleague kept screaming and screaming. The murdered man sat on the bathroom floor, a long trail of blood running from a few feet above his snapped head. He had been standing when the trigger got pressed. Right between the eyes, or what was left of them anyway.

_Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight,  
Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight,_

But somehow that haunted face had some peace in it, the lips weren't pulled in a scream of plead. But in some sort of amused half grin. As if he'd played a game and lost but wasn't a bad loser. More like a honest cheater. Whatever terrible faith had come up his path, he made peace of mind with it.

_Goodbye. _

**This is the bad-ending. But in a strange sort of way, it's not that bad. For me it is because this is the first story where I let Sands get killed. I'm still a bit shocked by that. I read this 'chapter' this morning, I typed it in the middle of the night because I wanted to finish it since it has been in my mind for so long. **

**So I did it, I killed him but not in a bad way. I led him go in a way he wanted it to be. I leave the whole 'night' up to you to figure out what happened, but my own thought is that he was mocking El until he slid down the wall with his brains everywhere. I think his last words could have been: 'Could you hurry up, I've got a place to be.' Or something like: 'See you in Hell El Mariachi, I will save you a seat right next to Raúl Osiel Marroquín.' ( Google that guy and you will get it.)**

**Well that was it. And remember it's all about the ending. **

**X Nuky**


End file.
